


maybe the night

by lovepaintxxx



Category: NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22950583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovepaintxxx/pseuds/lovepaintxxx
Summary: dongho walks into minhyun's life the same way he did almost ten years ago. but seasons have passed, and the starry-eyed boys that fell in love while chasing the elusive dream seoul had promised no longer exist.maybe paris holds a little hope and another chance.
Relationships: Hwang Minhyun/Kang Dongho | Baekho
Comments: 9
Kudos: 54
Collections: Spring Blessings (Nu'est 8th Anniversary Fic Fest)





	maybe the night

there's something about paris that amplifies that lingering melancholy that minhyun used to fight but instead had gotten used to. he notes that the dull ache in his chest is slowly turning into something more, but he tunes it out. instead, he focuses on the chatter filling the boutique packed with models like him who are filing in and out for their last fitting before the givenchy show. 

he's done shows in milan and london. and way before that, when his career was just about to take-off, he was seoul's favorite. but minhyun had always dreamt of walking a show in paris. this year, he could be walking three. 

paris had always intrigued him. the city of romance, as people would lovingly call it. 

the younger him would have been instantly smitten by it. the young, starry-eyed version of himself that was hopeful and innocent would have been ecstatic and would probably take every bit of free time he could scrape to explore the city. he would have been easily excited by the sights and scenes that he could experience.

but that minhyun no longer exists. 

instead, what's left is the minhyun that had to toughen up to fend for himself in the harsh world he had chosen to fall in love with, the minhyun who had to endure sharp tongues and empty vows, the minhyun who had lost touch of who he was before the glitz and glamour of the industry blinded and emptied him into the hollow shell of a man. 

and that's all he needed to be, a shell of a person that can make even the ugliest of clothing look worth more than exorbitant amounts they sell for.

he glances at himself in the mirror. the look he's wearing for the givenchy show is an olive brown patterned suit, a tan shirt, and a pair of alarmingly huge sunglasses. the suit fits him nicely enough, but one of the seamstresses was already pinning the hems of the pants, so he guesses it was longer on him than expected. 

she pats minhyun on the arm, and minhyun takes it as his cue. he dresses himself out of the ensemble as quick as he possibly could, before anyone else could strike up a conversation with him.

the road to the top was one that he had to take alone. 

he had learned early on that he's the only one that can help himself, and people who cling onto him and he clings onto would only bring him down. 

so he lets the loneliness slowly seep into his bones. he lets it bloom in his heart, until it's taken root. he lets it cling onto him with a vice grip, so he'll never forget. 

loneliness is a friend that won't hurt him the way most people will.

he figures he has time to kill before the live fitting for the dunhill show. he had flown to paris with deals with both givenchy and wooyoungmi, but for dunhill, he's part of the pool of models the casting directors are going to choose from based on who fits the looks the most. 

it's not uncommon for designers to prefer something like this, but minhyun usually begs out of them to save himself from the inconvenience. his agency handles things well enough that he gets deals with designers before flying out to events, so he simply prefers working that way. but this was a good experience for him, his manager had said when he read the offer. it's a brand he's never worked with, and getting in would only open more doors for him. 

it's freezing out, and he instinctively pats his coat for his pack of marlboro red and his lighter. when he doesn't find it there, he rummages his clutch and slips a stick between his lips.

it's a bad habit, a vice he should already start to get rid of. but it calms him; every drag does. 

he's quick to stub out the stick after a couple of draws to enter a coffee shop with a promise of a warm cup of coffee.

don't get him wrong, minhyun absolutely hates the taste of coffee. it's bitter, and it tastes like dishwater. but it's the only caffeinated drink that helps him get through his awful jetlags, and paris just hasn't been treating him so well.

there aren't that many people inside the coffee shop, just a couple of people seated sparsely. two people are at the counter when he gets in line, and it takes him a while to realize that they're conversing in korean. he picks up bits of their conversation, and it didn't take a while for him to realize who one of them was. 

minhyun knew this was bound to happen, and he'd be lying if he hadn't thought of when and where they'd meet again. he had imagined something more… glamorous. he expected something more dramatic. something that suited the people they've become, or so minhyun thought.

after all, meeting your first love again for the first time in years should be an affair. and yet, minhyun stills, the supposed elation dulled by his growing pains, by the demon seated on his shoulder. 

but he doesn't have much time to recover, until the pair turns to leave, identical cups of coffee in their hands. their eyes meet, and minhyun is met with the same hazel brown eyes that he had drowned in so many times before. 

"minhyun?" 

minhyun smiles, a small one that's barely a lift of the corner of his lips. somehow, even without the coffee, he already feels a lot warmer. it's likely because of the space heater a few feet away from the counter. but he knows at the back of his mind that there's more to it. 

it's odd, minhyun thinks. it's been more than five years, less than ten. and his voice is lower than it used to be, but it still had the same effect on him. 

he gives him a small wave, "hi. it's been a while, dongho." 

\-----------

sixteen year old minhyun dreamt of becoming an idol. he still remembers why and how that came to be. he was watching tv with his sister when he saw a boy group performing, and his eyes were glued to the screen at that instant. he wanted to be like them. 

his parents had let him. they even brought him to seoul after he was casted. 

and in seoul, he met dongho. 

dongho was from jeju, and minhyun, despite having only visited jeju once, had always thought that he radiated a certain kind of warmth that reminded him of the place. dongho always had a smile on his face that sometimes made him look easy and simple, but his sharp tongue made him interesting. dongho was the friend minhyun didn't expect to make, much less, the first love he never expected to find.

but dongho made seoul somehow feel like home. in his encouraging smiles and warm touches, minhyun felt comfort. they were both young and away from home, and that ounce of comfort was everything. 

but seoul wasn't home. and no matter how hard he tried, he just wasn't cut out for the life he thought he wanted. 

so three years later, their debut seemingly close but still uncertain, minhyun left the company.

"how have you been? congrats on your first movie by the way." 

minhyun takes in light pink dusting dongho's cheeks, and he could attribute it to the cold. after all, things seem to haven't changed, dongho still gets cold easily. but dongho also blushes when he's embarrassed, his brain unhelpfully supplies. 

"you watched that? honestly, i hated it." dongho puffs out, pulling his scarf a bit higher. 

when he got his coffee, dongho was waiting for him by the door. upon realizing they were both headed for a fitting, they decided to take the long walk to the boutique to catch up. 

after all, their break-up was amicable. it had hurt, but they both knew it wasn't going to work out between them. they were young, but somehow, they had a hint of maturity that helped them preserve the memories of their relationship instead of letting them turn sour. they promised to keep in touch, and at first, it sounded like a good idea. they were friends before they were boyfriends. but minhyun quickly realized it wasn't what would help him move forward. 

he went back to busan, enrolled at a university while taking part-time modelling gigs from online stores, eventually getting casted by a modelling agency. 

later, he finds out their supposed group was scrapped. and the other trainees went their separate ways, but dongho stuck with music. and he's currently one of the most well-known singer-songwriters in the country. and just recently, he's broken into the big screen.

"why? the movie was a hit. and you did really well for your first lead role? " minhyun means it. dongho was a musician before anything else, everyone who knew him knew that. minhyun watched his movie, on a whim after hearing about it at one of his magazine shoots a month ago. and he was just charmed. it was a different side of dongho he never got to see firsthand. and the entire country seems to agree, because the movie had a crazy opening weekend, beating the highly-awaited foreign films that came out at the same time. 

dongho looks at him in disbelief, but there was a glint in his eyes that minhyun still recognizes. he's relishing in the compliment, and minhyun's glad his brain to mouth filter hadn't stopped him from saying it. 

"thanks. it's just, i feel like i'm veering too far away from the career i wanted. it was a great experience, but it feels wrong." dongho takes the last few sips of coffee in his cup before crushing it, dropping it off at the trashcan they pass by. 

he has that look on his face that minhyun hasn't seen before. reminding him, that despite how comfortable this feels, this dongho right before him isn't the same dongho that had been his best friend. 

"oh. i guess that makes sense." 

"you're walking for the dunhill show, right?" dongho suddenly asks, looking up at him expectantly, his excitement clear. 

minhyun smiles. a voice inside his head commenting on how he's smiled more than he had in years this hour alone he's spent with dongho. and while it isn't untrue, he pushes the thought away.

"i should be, shouldn't i?" the teasing lilt in his voice sounds unfamiliar even to him, but it makes dongho smile nonetheless. 

"of course, i'll be at the front row watching." 

\-----------

minhyun's first modelling jobs were mostly photoshoots for catalogue listings of online stores. those gigs didn't pay him much, but all he had to do was wear a shit ton of clothes and look pretty for the camera. he oddly felt comfortable, and following the meticulous, if not over the top, directions from the photographers was almost too easy. 

he was a natural. at least, that's what the sleazy photographers told him then. 

he never really thought about it that much until he was scouted by his current agency, arguably the biggest in the country, after one of his gigs went viral. 

he felt ecstatic, after all, he's found something that excites him the way performing onstage used to. he gets signed into long-term brand deals, gets magazine spreads, and so much more. 

but what he surprisingly liked the most were the fashion shows. his first was for a mid-tier designer based in seoul. and with his quick rise to fame in the fashion scene, despite being a rookie, he was asked to walk last. 

there was a sense of accomplishment there, too big to be ignored. so he had let himself revel in it, thinking that he had finally found his place. 

but he soon realizes that despite the parallels, this industry was somehow much harsher than what he's witnessed as a trainee. 

he had considered the members of their temporary group his friends. it was easy to fall into a comfortable companionship when they had spent much of their days in the practice room, when they'd come back to the dorm together in the wee hours of the morning after a gruelling day of dance practice. they spent every waking moment of their lives together, and despite their differences, they shared the same goal.

so like a slap on the face, he quickly learned that the industry he'd set a foot in was much more gruesome than he thought. because after earning that spot in the show, he's faced with a kind of hostility he'd never expected from people he thought were his friends, people he respected as his seniors. 

it's been years, and he easily could've given it all up. but despite everything, like the almost-fights he had to wiggle himself out off and the endless backstabbing he had to endure, this was something he liked doing. so he stayed and worked his way to where he was now, not giving a shit about what people try to throw at him. and he won't be stopping anytime soon.

so it didn't surprise him when he wasn't picked for the dunhill show, especially after seeing who were walking the show instead. and the confirmation he needed came in a quick chat with one of the younger models who he has gotten to know from past campaigns and shows. guanlin, in that straightforward way of his, confirmed what minhyun had already suspected. 

it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he knows there's more to it than just that. 

dongho. 

dongho was expecting him to walk that show. he had smugly declared he'd be watching minhyun from the front row. and well, minhyun won't be there.

there's a wide variety of emotions brewing in him, mostly foreign but certain. but minhyun tries his best to keep himself afloat. after all, this isn't the first nor the last time this is going to happen to him. and dongho shouldn't really be a factor. 

and yet, he is. 

he unfortunately is. minhyun knows, because as soon as he and guanlin had caught up in that brief chat after the fitting, when the younger model had angrily told him what he had heard, minhyun went straight to the hotel to rummage through the contents the mini bar before remembering he'd been gifted with a wide array of alcohol the other night. 

he's already finished the bottle of amarone, despite the fact that he hates how it tastes, hates how it feels in his tongue, hates the odd taste it leaves in his mouth. he's tipsy, but it isn't enough.

and it takes all his self-control to stop him from chugging the vodka that he's already taken a couple of shots of. 

still he hates how clear his mind still is. and he hates that it's close to impossible for him to just stop thinking about how he wants dongho to see him. he wants dongho to see him where he feels and is his best. and he hates that. he hates that he cares so much about someone who's supposed to be just part of a past that he's moved on from. 

his phone buzzes in his lap, four times to be exact. it's barely past six in the evening, which means it's around two in the morning in seoul. and he really doesn't have enough friends who'd bother messaging him this late. 

except, it's minki. 

minki was also in paris. and he's making it a point to goad minhyun into going shopping with him. he's been trying to talk minhyun into it since they met at the airport, realizing they were on the same flight to paris. and minhyun really planned on indulging him at some point, but he can't really go out in this state. 

> **6:10 pm**
> 
> _hwang minhyun_
> 
> _i know you're seeing these_
> 
> _stop ignoring me_
> 
> _why didn't you tell me you met dongho_

leave it to minki to hit where it hurts. he types out a quick reply before pouring himself another shot.

> **6:12 pm**
> 
> _yeah, well it's not exactly a big deal_

it is, obviously. but he tries to play it off. 

minki was one of the trainees they were supposed to debut with. and when minhyun left, the supposed project group eventually was dissolved. he made it a point to not really keep up with the other boys, because he knew it'd only be harder on him. he'd overthink, and maybe blame himself. and for a while he did, maybe if he didn't leave, there would've been a higher chance they debuted. so even though it did hurt, he just let everything go. 

he's met aron once, their eldest member, a year ago in new york. and he met jonghyun by chance at a random restaurant in seoul a few years back. but among the four members, it was minki who he kept bumping into. after all, minki was quite the star, a successful youtube channel and a huge instagram following backing him. the first time was a year ago at a gucci private event in gangnam. since then, after exchanging kakaotalk ids, minki had made it a point to send minhyun random messages at least once a week. in his words, to make sure that minhyun was still alive. 

> **6:15 pm**
> 
> _it is??????_
> 
> _i know it is, hwang_

minhyun feels the certainty in minki's statements through his messages alone, and minhyun actually finds himself sobering with every message he reads. 

> **6:15 pm**
> 
> _he looks hotter now don't u think?_

that. that is something minhyun refuses to think about right now. not when he's already feeling so much at once, not when he can't seem to control either of his thoughts or feelings. 

minhyun doesn't realize how tight he's holding the shot glass in his hand until it slips from his grasp and drops onto the carpeted floor. and he promptly decides he'd deal with it later. 

before he can type out a reply, his phone buzzes again

> **6:19 pm**
> 
> _okay, but on a more serious note_
> 
> _we kinda talked about you, min_
> 
> _he didn't know how to contact you_
> 
> _so he asked me to ask you_
> 
> _if you would be okay with having dinner with him_
> 
> _just the two of you_

\-----------

drunk or not, minhyun knows his answer would have been the same. it shouldn't have. but he'd rather not over analyze it, not in the way he always does. because right of the bat, it wasn't the most rational of decisions. given how spending a minuscule amount of time with dongho has been affecting him, the answer should have been a resounding no. 

but he replies with a curt yes, instead of sending minki those two letters and proceeding to talking his ear off about how it isn't going to help him in any way to still be in touch with dongho. not when dongho's on his way to becoming the country's sweetheart. especially not when his smile still makes minhyun's heart skip a beat, in the most cliche of all cliches ever. 

but minhyun had agreed. and minki had set-up a time and place for them to meet. 

and he would have probably spent his days overthinking and stressing himself over a dinner that hasn't even happened. but the tiny ounce of control he has over himself and his emotions took the reigns, dragging him along the blur and hussle of crowded backstages, glaring stage lights, and stuffy after-parties. 

and he's managed to keep himself afloat the past three days leading up to it. 

but now that all the fanfare is over, attending the last of his after-parties the night before. he's finally has time in his hands, 6 hours until he meets dongho at the restaurant minki had suggested. 

a solid two hours of which he had already spent thinking. too much, honestly.

he's trying to rationalize why he's feeling so anxious about having dinner with dongho. it's not like it should mean anything. it's not like it means anything, to him or to dongho. 

but there isn't a decent explanation aside from the fact that after all these years, there's still a tiny part of him that's stuck in that bubble they kept themselves in to keep themselves afloat while trying to stay alive in a city that seemed to be keen on stomping their spirits down. 

and it's almost sickening how easily the dam broke, when he's barely dwelled on these lingering feelings the past few years. it's terrifying.

it's absolutely terrifying how easy it was for them to slip into a comfortable conversation riddled with the banter that had made their friendship theirs.

he lays in bed and stares blankly at the ceiling, hoping the borderline tacky chandeliers hold the answers to the countless questions swimming in his head. 

he stares until his eyelids feel heavy, until he drifts to sleep.

\-----------

> **5:32 pm**
> 
> _hey_
> 
> _i'm pretty sure you're already preparing_
> 
> _there's a dress code okay!!!_
> 
> _hope you brought a decent coat with you_

minhyun rolls his eyes at the messages, kind of annoyed but touched that minki still knows him this much, remembers the random habits that remained unchanged from the time they still lived together. so instead of a snarky remark, he settles for something that showed that appreciation.

> **5:33 pm**
> 
> _yeah, thanks minki_

the restaurant is three blocks away from the hotel he was staying at, and a quick search tells him what minki refused to divulge. 

> **5:33 pm**
> 
> it's whatever
> 
> enjoy your date ;) 
> 
> **5:34 pm**
> 
> it's not a date
> 
> **5:34 pm**
> 
> keep telling yourself that :) 

it's not a date, but the restaurant dongho chose says otherwise. and minhyun really shouldn't overthink this any further, so he just hops into the shower, hoping a warm bath can ease the tension in his muscles.

and it somehow does, when he steps out, the one thought lingering in his mind was he might not have decent clothes in his suitcase. 

despite being in the fashion industry for years, minhyun kept his preference for comfort. and while style doesn't always equate to a lack of comfort, minhyun also prefered simple, muted, and maybe mundane. 

he'd rather keep the bright and eclectic on the runway. he liked basics, they were easy to pair, and they were plain enough that people wouldn't bat a lash if he wore the same cream turtleneck with the same black slacks, because for all they know, he could own three of those. 

he empties his suitcase and thanks minhyun of four days ago who had decided to pack an hour before he had to leave for the airport. because that minhyun had the foresight to pack a pair of fitted slacks, and immediately he padded across the room to grab the paper bag he was handed by a designer he had a photoshoot for the other day. 

in it was a black button down with white details that was styled with a black silk choker that he wouldn't have ever chosen for himself, except now he owns it. the designer liked the look so much on him, and she gifted him most of the collection after the shoot. 

minhyun had always thought he looked best in black, and one glance at the full-length mirror by the bathroom door affirmed that thought. 

he looked good, put-together. 

and if he couldn't play the part of the unbothered ex-boyfriend, well, he could at least look the part. but a part of him wants to believe no one won that break-up. 

he's pretty sure they both cried until they couldn't that night he told dongho he couldn't do it anymore. that being idol wasn't for him after all. that trying actually physically hurts. that he didn't share the same dream with them anymore. that he was leaving the company, the members, seoul, and dongho. 

but another part of him wants to be… petty. 

because he just doesn't understand what dongho could possibly want from him now. they've spent years of static silence. and they could have had that for even longer, if minhyun hadn't walked into that coffee shop. 

so as he slips on his coat, he wills himself to rebuild the parts of his walls that crumbled at the mere sight of kang dongho. 

_it's going to be a long night._

  
  


\-----------

despite the alarmingly negative thoughts swimming in his head, minhyun feels pleasantly nervous, in a way he hasn't felt in a very long time. 

it doesn't have to mean anything. 

but then again, is that what he really wants? 

he lets that question linger. 

the cold january air hits him as soon as he walks out of the hotel, and the map on his phone tells him the walk to the restaurant would take him six minutes of walking a straight line. 

he pockets his phone and starts walking at a pace slower than his usual. 

what does he want from this? 

closure, maybe. after all, he'd left in a hurry, thinking that if he stayed any longer, he would just decide to grit his teeth and ignore the pain that shot through his shoulder every time he followed the choreography they practiced.

when he finally sucked it up and decided to go to a doctor in busan, they, him and his mother, learned that he had a minor muscle tear that wouldn't completely heal with surgery. but the doctor assured him that surgery wasn't necessary if he wasn't going to be dancing anymore. 

he instinctively reaches out for that shoulder, his right, and gives it a squeeze. it doesn't hurt as much, not anymore. but once in a while, he'd feel it, and it'll remind him of late nights spent almost passed out on the floor of the practice room, laughter bouncing off its four corners. 

the restaurant's familiar off-white facade greets him as soon as he arrives. he's a few minutes early, and he has no idea if dongho was already there. he could message minki and ask him to ask dongho, but it wouldn't make much of a difference. 

"reservation under ren choi, please." 

as far as he knows, or from what minki had told him, dongho chose the restaurant because of the good reviews on their food. and he smiles at that thought -- some things really never change. but the smile drops as soon as he steps into the restaurant, finding himself surrounded by couples. 

it's a date spot. 

and this wasn't a date. it's not. it shouldn't be. 

and yet, it was. how could it not be one when dongho greets him with a bunch of blue irises and the warmest of smiles. 

his mind blanks. 

"minhyun-ah." 

\-----------

"i met aron hyung last year. i had dinner with him while i was in new york for a show." 

minhyun isn't really surprised, because conversations with dongho have always been easy. but 

what surprises him is how comfortable he feels. 

"oh, did you know jonghyun owns a really popular restaurant in gangneung now?" 

minhyun nods. minki couldn't stop talking about it, and he's seen a couple of features on it online. "i did. i think minki visited for one of his vlogs too." 

dongho laughs, and it's the same laugh that had always felt warm, just a bit deeper than it used to be. but it still had the same effect, and it's slowly bridging the seven year gap between them.

"well i'm not surprised, jonghyun probably was though." 

the conversation flows steadily, but minhyun notices that dongho was picking at his food. and it so unlike him, that minhyun couldn't help but ask, "hey, are you okay?"

"huh? yeah, of course." 

minhyun frowns, the fact that he could still read dongho like an open book should alarm him but he leaves that thought for later, focusing on the man in front of him, "you barely got half through the first course, and you've only eater a bite of this one." 

he pauses, realizing he's definitely overstepping their boundaries there, "oh, sorry. just- nevermind."

"no. i- it's okay. i just, you know. i'm happy you're here." 

"i hope this is okay." 

before minhyun can ask him what he meant, dongho reaches across the table for his hand. his hand is warm, and his fingers fit minhyun's a little too perfectly. 

"dongho…" 

he wants to say something more, anything really. to tell dongho they can't do this, he can't do this. that this isn't right, there are so many ways this thing could go wrong. and yet. 

and yet, all minhyun does is tighten his grip on dongho's hand. their eyes meet, and he lets himself drown in those brown orbs that mirror the bright smile on his face. he lets himself revel in the pleasant buzz that fills his head, filtering out the fears and worries that have been plaguing him. 

there's a palpable tension in the air, and while the question of what they feel and where this will go is still up in the air, there's one thing that they obviously both want. 

dongho looks really good. the past years have been kind to him -- a chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and a tiny waist. and the desire clears the haze of doubts and emotions that have been clouding his mind. it's crystal clear now. 

minhyun wants to kiss dongho senseless, breathless. he wants to kiss him until his lips turn a deep pink. he wants to map every part of dongho's body, commit every dip and curve to memory. he wants to hear every single sound that passes his lips, sounds that would be made because of him. 

it's plain and simple. 

\-----------

the door closes with a loud thud, and minhyun wastes no time in pressing dongho against it, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. everything is moving too quickly, and yet it's clear that they're both getting impatient. 

dongho melts into the kiss, his hands finding their place on minhyun's nape, his warmth thawing the parts of minhyun's skin that have always been cold. and dongho wastes no time, pushing minhyun off and dragging him across the room to where the bed is. 

before minhyun can say a word, dongho pushes him onto the bed. there's a predatory look in his eyes, and minhyun immediately feels it's effect, his dick straining in his pants. 

minhyun isn't the type to let his dick do the thinking. sure, he's had his fair share of one night stands, especially when he had just moved back to seoul when his modelling career had taken of. he had his fair share of awkward walks of shame back to his apartment on saturday mornings after spending fridays out.

but this is different. this isn't just sex for the heck of it. and it could be, but it isn't. they're both too sappy for that, minhyun knows. 

because despite the obvious sexual tension that had been brewing the entire night, instead of just taking a cab to get to either of their hotels faster, dongho insisted that they walk around first, his hand already in minhyun's before they were even out of the restaurant. 

the dongho right before him is different from the dongho that lived in his memories. and it's hardly a bad thing, because this dongho had retained every single thing minhyun had fallen in love with. 

"minhyun. is this okay?" 

_was it?_

his body moves on its own accord, before he could even start weighing the situation for the answer to that question. he reaches out, caressing dongho's cheek gently. 

in those brown eyes, he finds his answer. 

so he dives in head first, pulling dongho with him. 

\-----------

paris felt like a dream, and it probably was.

seoul is his reality, and here in seoul, despite how those warm touches they shared felt like home, dongho is leagues away from him in the most literal sense. 

if the fact that he was booted off the dunhill line-up wasn't enough for him to realize this gap, the countless ads with dongho's face in them scattered around incheon airport was a good enough wake-up call. 

it was good until he woke up to an empty bed and a piece of paper with a phone number scribbled in dongho's barely readable handwriting. he could even say he was somewhat happy while it lasted. 

it isn't a mistake. minhyun doesn't count it as one, but it feels awfully similar to that time he tried to stop smoking. it was all good, he's gone more than three months without reaching for a pack and the lighter he always kept in his pocket hadn't been used to light a cigarette since he threw his last unopened pack in the trash. 

but all it took was a brief moment of weakness for him to pick-up a pack at the convenience store a block from his apartment complex, to finish half of it sitting alone at his building's rooftop garden. 

all it took was an innocent question from an acquaintance at a party he had attended that night, a question asked when he had refused the stick he was offered, one he usually took. 

_you don't smoke anymore? why?_

the mere mention of the bad habit he had broken had sent him reeling. it lit the fuse. and suddenly, all he could think about was why. why had he stopped? it was all it took for him to crave for the odd state of calm smoking had always put him in. that was all it took, even though he had managed months without seeking it.

and being with dongho again feels awfully similar, because he had gone more than five years without him, without thinking about how his kisses were more than enough to set minhyun on fire. 

and yet, their brief encounter had sent minhyun into a drunken daze. 

he'd been too brave, too out of it to realize he's getting in over his head. 

this is not an episode of self-pity, not really. he's always been proud of where he stands, of the career he's built for himself. but he's under no illusion that he'd be able to stand on the same footing as dongho. 

it just isn't the same. there's too much of a gap to bridge there. and even though, dongho's kisses and touches speak leaps and bounds of a future they could try and build together, minhyun is, admittedly, a coward. 

his two bedroom apartment has never felt this stuffy, but it's grounding him. and that's what he needs. 

he walks to his kitchen to grab a bottle of water from his refrigerator, only to realize that all he has in it is a 6-pack of beer. 

he grabs a can and drops down on his couch. going through his social media accounts is how he decides to spend his afternoon. 

he goes on instagram, scrolling through his feed, through photos of acquaintances and designers he follows from fashion week. he double taps on one of minki's post, a set of photos of him by the eiffel tower. 

he decides to post one of his own. without thinking much about it, he posts one by the louvre, a photo him taken by dongho when they drunkenly stumbled by it on their way to dongho's hotel. no one would really know who took it, and it shouldn't really mean anything. 

except he wants to immortalize the moment, because even though paris is a secret they both have to keep, a part of him wants to tell the world about it. 

so he clicks posts and puts down his phone, deciding to finish the book he had been reading on the plane back home. 

he has a chapter left, when his phone starts ringing. 

it's minki. 

"what the fuck, minhyun. keep your flirting on a down low!" 

"what are you even on? and hello to you too, minki."

"ah, you haven't seen it then?" 

his brow furrows in confusion, wondering what minki even means. 

"okay, i'm hanging up. check your instagram for yourself. nice photo, by the way." 

minhyun's blood runs cold. the suggestive tone in minki's voice is more than enough to have him saying a quick goodbye, immediately opening the app.

> **realkdh** _started following you!_
> 
> **realkdh:** _told you it was a nice photo. see you soon, @hmh1995._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *pops confetti canon*
> 
> this fic started out as a drabble, supposedly a lot shorter than this. but i got carried away, and now we have this monster??? i took a lot of willpower to see through this, but here we are! 
> 
> so thank you for reading through this mess aka minhyun overthinking his way through life!!!


End file.
